


The Dance That Won't End

by Missy



Category: Carrie - All Media Types, Carrie - Stephen King
Genre: Adulthood, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - No Prom, Dancing, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Post-Canon, Romance, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 19:45:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12464586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Carrie and Sue avoid the prom, and find space in the future to help others like Carrie find support.





	The Dance That Won't End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scioscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scioscribe/gifts).



Her arms were warm around Carrie’s middle as they spun around the kitchen floor. Warm, soft and guiding. They’d been guiding her since sixth grade, carefully away from her terrifying mother, carefully away from bullies that had haunted her. They’d graduated somehow without much trouble; had kissed at prom, to the shrieking horror of the. Had disappeared under an almond-colored moon and run for their lives, to California. Sue had gotten a psychiatric degree and Carrie had gotten a teaching degree, and they’d settled into a little farm town to work in a high school together.

Carrie was the one who decided to be brave. To tell her psychiatrist that she was ready to help – and if she knew anyone who was unique like Carrie – who shared her talents, that she would use her education to teach them how to use their powerful gifts.

Carrie’s therapist had come through. That afternoon they’d had their first ‘guest’ as Carrie called the students she’d planned on guiding. A quiet mother with a dark suit and her small daughter in a yellow dress. With a surprising amount of pride, The mother asked her daughter to do her best ‘within reason’ to impress her young teacher.

She stared at the television, and it turned itself on.

An hour into the lesson, they congregated in the kitchen for a break. “God’s given my girl this gift, Miss White,” said the woman, sipping lemonade Sue had squeezed with her own two hands.

Only Sue saw Carrie’s shoulders stiffen. Sue caressed them, the long divide of her spine. “God,” Carrie agreed. A rare smile crossed her face. “Praise Him for bringing us together,” Carrie said, and parted her long, soft hair, squeezing the ends. The spoon she’d been using to siphon the best parts of her milkshake spun around in the glass and stopped, tapping the bottom thoughtfully like a walking stick. “Now see if you can do what I did, Mary.”

And she did. 

After the lesson, Carrie didn’t cry. They danced, just as they had in the corner of the prom, sliding cha-cha style on the needle of Carrie’s fragility, keeping her from falling. The dance was a celebration, for Carrie had a place in the world, and that place was with Sue – and that place was teaching children like herself to forgive.

They had purpose, and one another, locked in a dance that would never end.


End file.
